“Evangeline, where did you get that?”
She shakes her head, “No where, it’s a stupid ringfrom a box of Cracker Jack.” She turns and motions for me to follow her, “Come on. If I have to keep you out of trouble for the unforeseen future, you’re coming with me."
I follow her, my mouth turning dry. Not only have I immediately caught feelings for the woman who holds my future in her hands, but I think I may have found the woman my brothers have been searching for the last ten years.
Chapter 7
Eve
“Thank you.”
I watch as Roman nods his head at the waitress, immediately lifting his coffee to his mouth and downing half the cup in one go. He wrinkles his nose as the cup clinks down on the saucer, “American coffee is so watered down.”
I tilt my head at him and lean back in my chair. “American?”
I don’t hear an accent and even though he’s tan, I would have just said he spent a lot of time in the sun. If I’m going to do my job, though, I need to know everything. Where he grew up, who his family is, who his friends are and his list of enemies.
I see the hesitation on his face – the way he’s trying to determine how much to tell me. I’ve seen it on my clients’ faces more times than I can count and, in the end, they always tell meeverything.It’s why I’m a damn good lawyer.
Sitting up, I place my hand on the table and lacemy fingers together, leveling him with a look. “Listen, I could tell last night that you were a dangerous man and that’s why I was attracted to you.” I shrug. “That’s fine, I don’t care. I wouldn’t be a defense attorney if I was scared of things that went bump in the night.”
He sits up straighter, his eyes flashing with the danger I mentioned as they meet mine. I continue, “I need to know, Roman. I need to know your history, your family, your connections. I need to know what you were doing at the club last night and when you left. I need to know the people you hang out with and who wants you locked up or killed. I need to know when you took a shit last, understand? Judges like Thompson don’t let things go, especially charges like mass murder, and he’s going to try to pin anything on you just to drag this out.”
Roman picks up his coffee cup and finishes it off, wincing once again. “Fine. I’m guessing you have an NDA?”
Nodding, I grab my briefcase and slide the paperwork from the top of the stack along with my favorite pen. “If you would like it to be notarized, I have a notary on speed dial.”
Shaking his head, he quickly signs the paperwork and slides it back to me. I sign it as well and slip it back to my briefcase before grabbing a notepad. “I’ll get you a copy. Now, tell me everything.”
He looks around the coffee shop, making sure no one is close enough to hear. Luckily, I know my clients enough to know that confidentiality is a necessity and have most of my meetings here where the waitress knows to give me a table away from all the others.
Once he’s sure no one will overhear, he begins. “I’m not an American, technically. I grew up in America, but my dad is Italian, so I grew up with an Italianfamily and,” he holds up his now empty coffee cup, “Italian coffee.”
My mind immediately shoots back to the last Italian I knew, but I push the memories of him out of my mind before the tears can even begin to form. Not the time and it sure as hell is not the place. Fuck him. Fuck them both.
“So now I know why you grimaced at the taste of my favorite coffee. Tell me about last night.”
He sighs, running his fingers through his short hair. “I don’t usually work at the club. I’m actually from New York. My…” He hesitates, and I know whatever is going to come out of his mouth next is not going to be the full truth. “My boss sent me here to check on the club because some of his product was going missing.”
I hold my hand up, stopping him before he can go on. “Product?”
“Girls and drugs.” He sees the look on my face and shakes his head. “We don’t sell the girls, we manage them and their careers – either dancing or sex work – and we only take a small percentage.”
I raise my eyebrows, deciding not to write that bit of information down. If he told me the truth about the ‘product’, then what part did he lie about? His boss?
I wave at him to continue. This isn’t the first time I’ve worked with drug runners and I’m sure it won’t be the last.
“I flew in five days ago and I’ve been at the club since, manning the door to watch who comes in and out. I hadn’t seen anything out of the ordinary and last night was no different, but after close I went out to smoke and ended up taking a walk around the block. When I got close to the club I heard gunshots. I ran in and saw someone slipping out the front, so I tried torun after them. I had my gun out…the cops found me before I found the shooters.”
Roman shakes his head, wiping at his face before looking back at me with tired eyes. “They arrested me immediately and they got there so quickly I think they must have been called while the shooting was happening or before.”
I nod, making a note of everything he said. It’s possible the shooters called before going into the club. They would have had to be watching him, though, to know when he would return.
“Were you read your Miranda Rights?”
Roman nods, “Yeah, unfortunately the cops weren’t rookies.”
“Okay…I was told this was a mass murder, but you said the club was closed. Who were all the victims?”
